Crash Course Credit Crash Crashing Control
by Piatot
Summary: What is the cost of temptation? About two grand, in this case.


**For sweetjamielee's The "Plan B" 2013 Summer Ficathon**

**TITLE: **Crash Course, Credit Crash, Crashing Control.

**PROMPT:** The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it… I can resist everything but temptation – Oscar Wilde

**A/N: **As always, I don't own anything. :) Thank you, Jamie for your prompt – this one's for you. I hope this is what you had in mind. :)

* * *

_**Prologue**_

The doorbell rang before she even pressed it. Or maybe she had pressed it, only the synapses fired quickly than her sight could perceive. Standing outside Kalinda's apartment door did that to her nerves. Not her, she would always insist. Just her nerves. The woman, in her head, was the equivalent of a tower – always proud, unyielding.

The door opened, Kalinda's back following the door's edges in welcoming Alicia in.

"I still don't understand why we have to…" Kalinda finally turned and looked at her. "What's with the… erm… disguise…?" the investigator asked tentatively.

Alicia shifted uncomfortably in her figure-hugging jeans. Her cleavage smiled and greeted an enthusiastic "hello" to anyone she comes across.

Kalinda was tempted to put a frown on them.

"I thought I should dress down." What she really meant was to dress more like the investigator.

"With that, you should be doing my job." She squeezed lotion into her hands and lathered it onto her arms. "You should probably put some," she craned her neck sideways, "maybe even down to your… neckline? They might catch a draft."

Alicia nodded absently. She squeezed creamy strawberry blobs into her hands, rubbing Kalinda's scent onto her, the other woman's confidence infusing into her, and an inexplicable heat suffusing through her. The smell was faint it didn't even register to most, except to Alicia.

"Shall we go?" Kalinda slipped her notebook into her leather jacket pocket, overshot and ended up dropping it on the floor. Alicia immediately bent down, allowing the in-house a full view of her ass.

"You keep on wearing these things, I will have to let you question witnesses." Kalinda's eyes burnt holes into the other woman's jeans.

Alicia stood up suddenly, feeling as though her ass had been slapped by an invisible hand. She hurriedly handed the notebook to Kalinda.

The bar smelled of men; pool sticks sticky with sweat and god knows what, stools chipped and uneven, only the tables seemed to appear decent – at least from afar. The dark brown varnish had flecks of masculine and feminine colors, flowers and stripes. Some spots, even. They have been nursing the same bottle of beer since they have come in an hour ago.

It was fifteen minutes after that the witness entered the bar, hawk-like expression ruffling feathers of the alpha males around.

"Here he is." Kalinda scooted over and leans closer to Alicia.

"What?"

"I'm going to try to catch his attention." The investigator leaned forward and grazed Alicia's arms. The look in her eyes was a remote control that paused and slowed down the movements of all the men in the room.

Alicia's breath is lodged in her throat.

"Sshhhh…" Her fingertips lightly trailed on the side of her neck travelling down, down and down to her neckline, "in five, four, three," The alcohol in Kalinda's breath travelled the short distance to the lawyer's nose. Her head was reeling with the beer she drank and the one she smelled. She swooned; almost fell in a field of roses. "Two…"

"Afternoon, ladies."

Kalinda's eyes flickered in triumph.

* * *

_**The Story, by the Dollar, or The Cost of Temptation**_

The previous day warranted hours of staring into nothingness, and a page and a half of journal entry (after having ripped and discarded several pages). Of course, there was really nothing in the journal except for declarations and contradictions which can be summarized into "Why" and "because she is such a mystery."

* * *

**(Definitely) $20.00**

The mall was breathing out chocolates and strawberries. Alicia inhaled them and soon found herself walking to the area of the cake shop.

Her face was illuminated by the lights that were supposed to showcase the sweets.

Her eyes danced when she sees them. Chocolate sponge. White cream filling. White cream toppings. And strawberries.

She didn't even notice that a slice was going to cost her. She slipped her credit card on the counter, signed the receipt, eyes transfixed on the cake.

She sat on a two-seater and breathed in deeply. She started expanding from the inside as she (for some reason) remembered lotion.

The thought was sliced as her fork dug in deep into the cake. She took the first bite, closing her eyes on the process.

The explosion was heard only by her.

* * *

**(About) $1,200.00**

She was still unsatisfied. The strawberries, cream and chocolates were weighing down her stomach, but she was still swimming. Or floating. Whichever is more appropriate when she was supposed to be walking down the different boutiques to look around.

She didn't notice the name of some designer screaming at her.

She only saw a pair of ankle-length boots. The red soles reminded her of a magazine she read, not long ago. She had seemingly, however, forgotten about her reaction when she saw how much it cost.

All she knew was that she has never had boots before. And she sometimes wears pantsuits.

Those, she believed, would go well with most of what she has in her wardrobe.

"Do you have those in 8? I'd like to try them on."

"Yes, ma'am." The accent should have been a giveaway that she wasn't in her usual mid-level price range type of store. The s was drawn-out, the a, hollowed.

When the shoes came, her heart started beating faster, and almost had a heart attack when she finally slipped them on. The additional height it provided was familiar – something she could get from others.

But wearing them felt like slipping on a lover's shirt, after a night of passion.

"I'll take it." The price tag started jumping at her, screaming to reconsider.

"Very good, ma'am."

When the bill came, her signature was extra-spiky.

* * *

**(More or less) $600.00**

A few steps away from the store, she saw a blazer that normally wouldn't catch her eyes. The color made her turn. The pattern that swirled and twirled in her eyes screamed at her for attention. She forgot about the visual spots playing in her eyes as she entered the store.

She entered the store and only saw the name "Diane," the rest of the name that elevated (skyrocketed) the amount to preposterous appeared blurry in her eyes.

A brunette greeted her, and asked for her size.

"A five. For that blazer."

All was lost when she tried the blazer on. The silkiness felt like a million fingertips seducing her to orgasm. She shuddered without meaning to, the goose bumps forming on her skin scratching the fabric from the inside. She closed her eyes and she saw silk sheets, and jet black hair (silky, too) caressing her thighs.

"Do you accept MasterCard?"

* * *

**(A little more than) $100.00**

She didn't normally shop, as most of her salary was spent in maintaining what Peter had left behind. Now that he was back in power, there was no need to be frugal, but she still felt uneasy spending so much.

She thought passing through the cosmetics section would help her refocus, with the light and colors that's supposed to blind her.

A stick of color appeared before her eyes and she thought they were lips trying to kiss her.

"This is a nice shade for you," the woman says.

She became aware of the frustration bubbling up inside her. The lips(tick) never touched hers. She had to have it.

"So it seems. I'll take one."

The woman smiled and jotted down the amount in a small sheet of paper.

Alicia looked at them without recognizing the numbers, but remembered she needed to buy a fresh bottle of red wine.

* * *

**(Close to) $150.00**

Alicia was spent. She spent amounts she never would have, while absently going through the day not thinking about "whys" and "mysterious" things. She leaned against the wall that separated the cosmetic department from the fragrance department.

She closed her eyes for a couple of seconds, and again started feeling like she was falling in a field of roses. She opened her eyes and let her nose lead her.

The woman opened her mouth to say something that sounded like "queen roses." She was surprised that there was monarchy among roses.

She handed the woman her credit card as she spritzed the spirit of flowers onto her throbbing pulse.

* * *

**Epilogue**

We all end where we begin. Here, with a doorbell.

This time, Alicia was sure she pressed the button.

Kalinda opened it, without the door chasing her back. She faced the lawyer squarely, sleepiness clouding her eyes.

"You didn't even notice?"

"Notice what?"

"Me."

"I talked to you almost the whole day, Alicia."

"No, me." She gestured helplessly to what she hoped to mean everything.

"You came all this way to ask me about your sense of fashion?"

Silence.

"You know you look good Alicia. You know you always look good."

In a heartbeat, Alicia stepped forward. Kalinda didn't understand. She didn't understand why she immediately reached out to cup the lawyer's nape and pull her down in a kiss so deep they were drowning seconds after.

Moments later, after their heartbeats had slowed down, Alicia nuzzled her head on Kalinda's nape, breathing in the scent that had her spinning back onto the field.

"You owe me two grand."

Kalinda's laughter married Alicia's giggles.

"You accept checks?"


End file.
